


Killing You Softly

by Measured_Words



Category: The Death of the Necromancer - Martha Wells
Genre: Drug Addiction, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: In the months following the execution of Edouard Villier for Necromancy, Nicholas has begun to plot his revenge.  So has Arisilde.





	Killing You Softly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asktheravens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asktheravens/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide!
> 
> I was scanning through the canon, looking for inspiration, and I came a cross a few references to these early days that I hadn't quite realized or remembered, so I thought I would try to tie them in together. I hope you enjoy this little treat :)
> 
> Thanks to Longpig for the beta!

The tavern was seedier than the student dives at Lodun, but Nicholas had been venturing into even less reputable establishments lately, and it hardly registered as out of place that Arisilde would agree to meet him there.

Distracted as he was when slid into the tall backed booth, he could tell there was something out of place with his friend. He looked a wreck – dark circles and bloodshot eyes, his pupils so constricted they looked almost wholly violet. His fingers were stained with who knew what, and the clothes he was wearing had clearly not been changed in days.

"Arisilde," he said, his initial focus losing precedence in the face of a more immediate concern.

"Nicholas," Arisilde answered, his eyes focusing only vaguely in his direction. "Oh good. You're here. I have something to ask you."

"I had something to ask you as well." It wasn't 'what are you on.' Nicholas had picked up enough from his studies at the physician's college to guess – opium. Quite a lot of it. He'd meant to come ask for help with a plan, but he wasn't sure he'd trust Arisilde to perform even a simple spell at this point. "But you go first."

"Will you come on a trip with me, Nic?"

"A trip?" He frowned. "To where? Or do you mean the drugs."

"Away is what I mean." He shook his head. "I think… I can't remember. I had a reason, when I came here…"

"Ari. I need your help. Remember? We have work to do." His plans to avenge his foster father were long term ones, but he'd been counting on Arisilde to help see them through. "I found someone to do the painting, the one you mixed the pigments for. But that's only the first step."

"I am helping you, Nicholas. You want revenge… I'm helping you. This is my path now. You won't come? It's much more pleasant, my way. You can still destroy yourself, you just won't take anyone else with you."

There was no sense asking him what he was talking about. He was rambling and agitated. Had he heard about something he didn’t like? Nicholas had taken out a Riverside crime lord a few days before, but the man had been little more than a depraved monster. The world should be thanking him for the improvement, but Arisilde was a soft touch. Even during the period where he'd believed Edouard was a necromancer who had managed to dupe them all, he'd advocated hard against his execution. 

It hadn't helped.

When the day had arrived, and Arisilde had come to tell him that he'd been wrong, that had helped Nicholas feel less alone, if no less enraged. And now this. He needed Arisilde for more than just his revenge plans.

"I'm not trying to destroy myself," he said after a moment, keeping his voice even. "I'm trying – we're trying – to destroy Montesq."

Pain and anger flashed through the haze in his friend's eyes, and Nicholas felt a shiver down his spine. But the moment passed, and Arisilde shook his head, unable to hold on to the passion. "It's all the same. Just different poison, Nicholas."

"Ari. I know you're upset. I know this is hard for you. If you won't be, or can't be part of my plans… I'll find someone who can." Nicholas was afraid he might have to anyway, but he'd rather try to talk to him sober first. "But drugs aren’t going to help you…. You're just throwing away your talents. Your reputation – your life!"

"They are mine, Nic. I can do what I want with them." Ari said it gently, reaching his hand across the table for an instant, but with drawing it before Nicholas could take hold of it, and examining is own stained fingers instead. "Now I remember. There was something I'd decided not to tell you. That was it."

"What?"

"But I don't remember what it was, so don't be angry."

The idea that Arisilde was deliberately keeping things from him, or trying to, might have been concerning if he'd really put much credit in the idea. As it was, he was concerned for wholly other reasons, and the longer this conversation went on, the worse the feeling was. "I'm not angry, but I want you to come with me to Coldcourt. You can meet some of my new acquaintances. And Madeline is there. Do you remember her?"

"Oh yes, I liked her…."

"Very well." Nicholas started to rise, not daring to feel relieved just yet. "We can talk more there." 

"I don't think you have more to say. You can bring me your little jobs, and I'll do them. And I can help you other ways. Except I won't hurt anyone, not even…. I can't. Anything else. I can still do it, Nicholas."

'You won't hurt anyone other than yourself,' Nicholas thought, but he could sense that speaking it aloud would do no good. He'd practically been dismissed already. "Then let me listen, Ari. Tell me why. Why are you doing this to yourself?" Why destroy one of the greatest minds Ile Rien had ever seen? Its most powerful sorcerer? The only friend he had who, he'd thought, really understood?

Arisilde's eyes closed, and he smiled dreamily. "It feels good, Nic. I feel good. You don't know what that's like…. I could show you? No more worries, no more pain." His smile faltered. "Could you live like that?"

If he ever found out who was responsible for this – who had sold Arisilde the opium, or convinced him to try it – Nicholas decided that they would suffer for it. "No," he said. "Because Edouard would still be dead. His reputation, his work, would still be ruined. Montesq would still walk free and unpunished. I'd be living a lie."

"Then I don't think I have more to say, either. But there were other things, weren't there? Something about…. Magic?"

"Another time, Ari. Just let me see you home now, at least. I promise, no more questions." For now at least. At the moment it felt as futile as throwing himself against a brick wall.

"Home, yes…. There are…things…that I want there." The lazy smile spread against his features again any concerns lost to the haze of opiates. But he rose when Nicholas did this time, and accepted a steadying arm as they left the establishment. He prattled on once they caught a cab, but most of it was nonsense, and Nicholas tuned it out. Nicholas didn't at all understand how this had happened, and he hated not understanding anything. If he went to Arisilde's house, he could maybe make a better assessment as to how far along this addiction had progressed, and work from there. If nothing else, he could probably see that he ate something, bathed, and changed his clothes.


End file.
